Never and Always, Eventually
by AlexisJames92
Summary: Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies. However, the thing he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment...that Deku was murdered. When Katsuki is suddenly given a second chance, he's not going to waste it
1. Chapter 1

Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies. However, the thing he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher.

They were…coworkers, he supposed.

The moment he realized he was calling Izuku "shitty nerd Deku" in his head with more fondness and—dare he say it—admiration than true annoyance, was when Izuku stood by his side cheering louder than anyone else when he, Katsuki a.k.a "Overkill" was named the Number One Hero.

And when the next year rolled around and Shitty Nerd Deku was declared Number One, and everyone looked to Overkill as though expecting him to blow up, Katsuki only scoffed and gave a sarcastic thumbs up, accompanied by a sneer.

Whenever they teamed up, whether by accident or by design, they always worked really well together. They'd known each other so long, it was almost like they could read each other's minds. And that was an important skill to have when your every action could mean life or death for an innocent civilian. They traded spots as Number One and Number Two Heroes back and forth like it was some kind of game. A game that Katsuki never really minded losing because, if he had to lose to someone, why not to the heir of All Might? Why not to Deku? The quirkless, timid boy who became the powerful, grinning man that inspired nations?

Eventually, their bond in battle bled over to their civilian life. It started easily enough after a particularly difficult villain had been carted away by the boys in blue, Deku had turned to Overkill with a weary sort of smile. "Drinks?" he asked, still breathing a bit more heavily than normal.

"You better be offering to fucking pay," Katsuki growled. Inexplicably, his acerbic reply had caused Deku to light up like Christmas tree. Katsuki had had to hide a smile underneath a glare that had deterred Deku not at all.

Drinks lead to dinner parties with their old classmates, which lead to "sleepovers" with copious amount of alcohol and laughter. Before Katsuki knew it, the idiots he'd avoided in high school had suddenly decided they were all buddy-buddy. He hadn't realized how bad it had gotten until he got invited to Uraraka and Asui's wedding and he found himself dancing with a laughing Kirishima without really knowing how he got there.

By the time he was invited to Iida's and his wife's (Mei, he thinks her name is? He just calls her You whenever he sees her, because, to be totally honest, that Support Geek freaks him out. But she doesn't scare him, not at all.) house to celebrate the first birthday of their daughter, he realized that none of them had the same fear of him that they used to. None of them flinched or fell silent when he walked into the room.

And he found…that he liked it.

Mostly. He had hoped that Todoroki would fear him a bit more, especially when that half-and-half bastard had randomly decided to propose to Deku. (Seriously?! Where the heck did that come from?!) Katsuki had then taken it upon himself to deliver the typical "You actually marry him and I castrate you with fire" talk that he was relatively certain fell into his responsibility to give as Deku's oldest friend. Though, for some reason the Halfy married Deku anyway.

Katsuki didn't cry at the wedding. He sweat manly tears from his eyeballs. So did Kirishima, in case anyone was wondering.

He was friendly enough with Deku that, when Kirishima suddenly dropped to one knee after they had successfully saved a butt-load of idiots from an apartment fire and asked him if they wanted to make their relationship "like, official for life?" Katsuki had reluctantly asked Deku if he wanted to be his best man.

He had expected the wimpy nerd tears…he hadn't expected the hug.

It was a week before his wedding, and Katsuki was about ready to just blow up the entire guestlist and decorations and the fucking priest that fucking Kiri had found somewhere and the stinking flowers that made his palms sweat (more than usual) and the (admittedly pretty) lakeside gazebo where Kiri had decided he wanted to tie the knot. Deku, seeing that "Kaachan" was minutes away from committing arson, mass homicide, or both, ushered Overkill away from the preparations saying loudly over Katsuki's cusses that they would be going on patrol.

Deku and Overkill wandering rooftops was far from an unusual sight, but every time they went out they always gathered a crowd of fans who cheered when Katsuki flipped them off and cooed when Deku gave them a dorky little wave. Loathe as he was to admit anything…Katsuki kinda liked how no one gave a fuck if he gave a fuck about propriety anymore. He had become so successful that people _liked it_ when he told them to go to hell. It….tickled him.

And he'd been in a pretty good mood when the report suddenly came in about a robbery in progress. Katsuki had grinned maliciously, letting his quirk snap and crackle over his knuckles while Deku rolled his eyes fondly at his friend's antics. They raced to where the distress signal had come in from, with Katsuki beating Deku there by a slim margin. A jewelry store. Some punks had decided to rob a goddamn jewelry store in the middle of jesus-fucking daylight when everyone and their _dog_ knew that a congregation of Pros had gathered in the city for his fricking wedding.

Katsuki made a face….wedding. Ugh. He was getting married. To Shitty Hair. What the heck? Deku snapped him out of his disbelief with a laugh. "Are they serious? They look like they're what, twelve?"

"Who cares," Overkill growled. He lit up his quirk with his customary " ** _DIIIIIEEEEEE_** " with Deku following behind with a sigh. But inwardly, he had to agree with Deku. The two robbers looked like they couldn't be out of middle school. One of them had a very obvious smoke screen quirk, but the other didn't seem to be showing any signs of a quirk. It was too late too assume anything, but Katsuki was almost thirty-five, he could take on these worms.

Ugh…he was almost thirty-five….jesus Christ he was old…..

The kid who hadn't shown signs of a quirk called out to Smokey as Katsuki burst through the door. He lobbed a fireball right at her, but Smokey was on the ball. Overkill found himself with a face full of thick, putrid smoke as Smokey pulled the other girl clear of the fireball. Katsuki held his breath, batting the smoke away from his face with a quick blast from his own quirk. However, just then, the girl activated her own quirk, clasping her hands together as though in prayer.

With the sound of a bubble popping, Katsuki found himself back in the doorway of the jewelry story, his fireball coming back towards his face. Overkill ducked out of the way, and the fireball his Deku right in the nose. It didn't hurt Deku so much as surprise him.

"Time quirk," Deku said before his mouth took off mumbling at the speed of light. Katsuki knew better than to tune him out, so he listened. Apparently, the little nerd had figured out the Smokey could only emit smoke while exhaling, and had a very limited amount he could make at once. And the Timey Wimey Twerp probably only had a half or minute or so amount of time that she could actually play with. Unfortunately, she didn't seem effected by her own quirk, so, while she kept resetting Katsuki and Deku back a few seconds, she got further and further away, dragging her friend behind her.

It was disconcerting, to say the least. Katsuki would run several steps forward, feel his ears pop and then find himself back in the door of the jewelry story with Deku not far behind him. They kept running into each other, running into walls, tripping over obstacles that magically righted themselves a moment later. Kastuki lit the store on fire twice only to have the flames fly back towards his hands, usually ending up burning Deku in the process.

However, as soon as she was out of sight, they felt her influence abruptly fall away. Deku gave a sigh of relief. "Well, at least that means she has to be able to see us in order to use her quirk."

"I'm gonna fucking explode her ass!" Katsuki screamed.

"Kaachan," Deku said warily. "Her quirk is pretty efficient. Don't get cocky."

"Too late," Overkill grinned at his friend, who rolled his eyes once more.

They followed the two kids at a distance from rooftops, careful to not let themselves be seen by either fan or foe. It was unusual for either Deku or Overkill to be very stealthy, so hopefully it would give them enough of the element of surprise that they could get the drop of the Timey Wimey Bitch before she could use that awful quirk again.

What happened next, Katsuki could have neither predicted, nor prevented. As of yet, Timey Wimey had used her quirk on everyone in a specific area to go back in time a few moments…they hadn't realized she could _freeze_ someone in time. Deku and Katsuki dropped down into the warehouse that they had followed the two children to.

They couldn't move. It felt like he was dead, somehow, despite his brain working fine he could _tell_ that his heart wasn't beating. He couldn't breathe. Every molecule in his body had stopped moving and Katsuki felt the _wrongness_ of the fact creep into his bones. More than that, he couldn't hear anything, couldn't feel anything. It was as though his eyes and brain were suspended in thin air. He could see directly in front of him, but that was the only sensation left to him.

And then Deku punched him. Overkill went flying and hit the far wall. Dazed, he staggered to his feet, knowing he had some sort of concussion. He looked back to Deku, just in time to see his friend's determined face, still frozen. His left arm still extended with that peculiar blue energy Katsuki was so familiar with crackling around his limb like lightning.

A crate

A solid, metal crate

Came crashing down

And Izuku still couldn't move.

Katsuki's legs pounded, flinging him closer with every step, his hands stretched behind him, propelling him with explosions. But he was too late. The crate hit the ground with a sickening _CRUNCH_ ing _SQUELCH_. The scent of blood was heavy in his nostrils. He tasted vomit. He could see the end of Izuku's hand…he could see that the rest of it…had been completely flattened.

Katsuki felt himself freeze in that death-like way once more. But the grief and rage erupting in his chest fired off his quirk and sent him flying. Flying towards the girl with the time quirk. It had only been a few seconds. "TURN BACK TIME, YOU FUCKING BITCH OR I'LL FUCKING SLAUGHTER YOU!"

The girl's face was white, her eyes wide with terror. She squeaked, but didn't use her quirk. "DO IT NOW, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SHIT!"

"I can't" she sobbed. "I didn't think it would kill him! He's Deku…"

Katsuki gripped her neck in one hand, lifting her off the ground. She gurgled and choked and gagged and gasped, but he only tightened his grip. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "Turn back time. Now."

"Can't…cool…down…time…" tears were leaking from her eyes, but Katsuki ignored her suffering in favor of processing what he had just heard. No. No it cant….it just…he cant…He dropped the girl. He grabbed two handfuls of his own hair, dropping to his knees as he tugged at his scalp in anguish. NO. Today…today was supposed to be happy…

"He's not dead!" the girl insisted, her voice rasping and rough. She coughed. "He can't be! He's Deku!"

Katsuki whirled on her. "DON'T YOU DARE CALL HIM THAT! ONLY I CAN! ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN HOW DARE YOU? HOW _DARE_ YOU!" With every word he kicked her in the stomach. She gagged blood, the crimson oozing from her mouth. He could tell from the way she was breathing that he'd totally destroyed her ribs. But he didn't care. He lit a fire, hotter than any fire he'd ever produced, in the palm of his left right hand. It was so strong, so bright, that it burned _him_. He brought his hand down, slapping her across the face just as she raised her own hand in a feeble attempt at survival.

Kaachan felt his ears pop.


	2. Chapter 2

"…chan?"

Jesus fucking Christ his ass hurt like a bitch.

Katsuki groaned, shuddered out a hacking cough and forced himself to sit up. What had the little bitch done to him to—

"DEKU!" his eyes flew open and he leaped to his feet, only to wobble and splash back down. Splash? With a sick feeling, Katsuki looked down. The relief he felt was pathetically overwhelming when he confirmed he hadn't fallen into a puddle of his best friend's gore, but rather a shallow stream. Then he frowned and placed his hand under the surface of the water. It felt real. Was this part of her fucking quirk? What was this? He looked around him. Where was the warehouse?

The sky was clear and blue, with nary a cloud overhead. There were rolling hills covered in rustling grass and groves of trees. A shadow of a bridge was being cast by the sun, falling across his shoulders. He recognized this place.

"Kaachan?! Are you okay?" Katsuki slowly turned around, soaking the front of his trousers in the stream as well. He was rewarded by the tear stained face of Deku.

"What are you doing?" Katsuki whispered, hearing with horror how young his voice sounded. He must have sounded angry to Little Deku, holy crap Deku was a baby, rather than disoriented because his eyes filled even more.

"You—you looked like you needed help," Deku held out a hand to him and a shiver crawled down Katsuki's spine. He half expected to feel that old anger rise up. The rage that Deku dare even _think_ the _he_ needed the help of a _quirkless nobody_ like…like…

"…Deku…" Katsuki leaped up and threw his arms around Deku, tackling him into the water. "I'm sorry" Katsuki whispered into his mane of crazy, curly green hair. "I'm so sorry."

"Whaaa?" Deku cried. "Kaachan, are you okay? We're gonna get sick Kaachan, let me up!" Katsuki slid off of Deku, realizing that it would be very easy for Tiny Deku to get sick. He kept a hand around the back of Deku's neck and took a good look at him.

He was so little. His face was even rounder and chubbier than he remembered, soft and faintly red blushed from crying. His eyes were wide and deep, intelligent for a five year old. Were they five? He helped Deku up, then began to lead the way back up to the top of the bridge, where their classmates were waiting for them. How did he fall off that stupid bridge again? Fuck. It's been so long, he can't remember.

They'd almost reached the other kids when Katsuki remembered. He remembered an old regret that he carried with him his whole life. "Izuku," Katsuki looked him in the eyes. "Thanks."

Deku's smile was the brightest and prettiest thing Katsuki had seen for a long, long time. Tiny Deku wrapped his little arms around Katsuki and made an indescribable sound that he'd only ever heard babies and Deku make.

"Kaachan!" Deku sobbed.

"LET GO OF ME YOU BIG DEKU!"

*******1047******

Katsuki sat in his bed later that night and pondered the situation he'd found himself in. First of all, it was obvious that the little brat had sent him back. Far back. But Katsuki wasn't about to complain. Not only was Deku _not_ dead, but Katsuki had a chance to fix everything he ever regretted (which obviously wasn't much mind you because he hardly _ever_ made any mistakes worth mentioning).

He might be able to save All Might.

He could definitely prevent Best Jeanist from being hurt to such a horrible degree.

Heck, he might even be able to put Endeavor out of the picture a little bit earlier and save them all a lot of headache.

Satisfied, Katsuki stretched out leisurely on his childhood bed. His stomach was filled with his mom's cooking, and everyone he cared about was safe. For the moment. Deku was fine. All Might was alive. Their coworkers hadn't even begun middle school yet, and so they'd be okay for a few more years.

Kiri.

With a pang, Katsuki instinctively reached for a phone that wasn't there. He wanted to talk to Eijiro. Usually around this time, they'd be wrestling for control of the TV remote on their couch, while trying not to crush their stupid Pomeranian as it nipped at their ankles. They'd be just getting back from their patrol, getting ready for a late dinner.

Katsuki _didn't_ miss his idiot with the stupid hard and weird smile and uncomfortably hard abs and warm hugs and infectious laughter and their little home with the dumb dog Eijiro wanted so badly.

They would have been married right now, if Katsuki hadn't been such an asshole that Deku had to literally drag him from the building before he exploded. If he and Deku hadn't been out and about, Deku wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place. There would have been no need or desire to turn back time, because his life had turned out fucking perfect.

Suddenly, Katsuki wasn't so sure about turning back time. About changing shit. All Might, as much as he respected the dude, wasn't _half_ the hero Deku became. And he was old, wasn't he? He would have had to retire soon anyway. And if All Might wasn't pressed for time, he might have held onto his quirk longer and Izuku would have been quirkless for life.

If Izuku was quirkless…Katsuki wouldn't have had that bridge to the rest of his classmates.

Would he and Kiri have even been friends? Let alone…let alone…

His lover. His finace. His fucking _husband_.

There was a version of Eijiro Kirishima that Katsuki would never get back and he fucking _hurt_ from the sudden feeling of loss.

All of the blood, sweat and tears that he had shared with Deku had been erased. They were still friends. Best friends. But at what cost? Sure, Katsuki had been a butt nugget for the majority of his childhood, but he straightened out eventually. Aizawa Sensei had seen to that.

Aizawa. Aizawa wasn't a teacher yet, was he?

Feeling lost and adrift, Katsuki fell asleep wondering where everybody was.

****1047****

Katsuki had originally been slightly—only slightly, mind you—concerned about being able to keep up appearances. Afterall, he was a grown-ass man in a fucking five year old's skin. He needn't have been. It was stupidly easy to slip into this _persona_ that he supposes used to be him. Maybe it still was him, buried deep down. One would think that after all the trauma, all the personal growth, all the –dare he say it—mellowing out that he'd gone through, you would think that the vestiges of little preschooler Katsuki would have been burned out of existence entirely.

But that didn't seem to be the case.

It was easy, maybe it was too easy, to laugh and carry on with Little Deku like nothing was wrong. Like he was a child. It was easy to play pretend, to go exploring with Deku, to play childish games like Hero and Villain. The first time around, they had played that game almost all the time, before Katsuki had learned Deku was…a deku. Then he refused, but even back before Katsuki would always insist that he play the hero. Now, though, he let Deku play All Might, finding an ironic humor and pathetic comfort in the familiarity. Furthermore, it was fucking hilarious to pretend to be a villain with such vigor and conviction that the neighbors would timidly raise concerns to his mother, only to be violently shut down by the firecracker of a woman who birthed him.

Going to school was a challenge, funnily enough, more so than the first time around. When Katsuki had actually been a child, school had always been too easy until going to UA. Now, though, he didn't want to bring extra attention to himself until Middle School, when he would work towards, once again, being accepted to UA.

He remembered reading a shitty Shakespeare play—shut up, yeah he can read, go fuck yourself—about a prince named Hal, who, in playing a long game, convinced his entire kingdom that he was a good for nothing bag of dicks, only to apparently transform into the golden heir in the kingdom's time of need. In a rather long-winded soliloquy –basically the dude was talking to himself because plot reasons—the dickbag prince explained that lowering the bar, then vaulting over it was the best way to get attention, because any good deed done by someone who no one expects anything from, just automatically looks so much better than the same thing being done by a good person who people already expect everything from.

As someone who people used to assume would grow up to be a villain, Katsuki can testify to the accuracy of that ideology. He was smart at fuck, and he'd fuck up any douche who would say otherwise. So, obviously, the best thing to do would be to pretend to be a dumb as a pile of shit, so that when he revealed his true self later on, it would be even more impressive than it was the first time around. It would also help back up any sudden personality shifts he would have to take on, explain it away as him suddenly taking life seriously or some crap like that.

Also, it would make Little Deku look like even more of a genius by comparison.

So, Katsuki pretended to be illiterate. He pretended to get numbers mixed up. He pretended to have no attention span. He pretended to not understand the basic of basic scientific principals his poor teacher tried to impart to him. Maybe he went a little too far, but honestly he was having quite a bit of fun with it. Heh.

Little Deku didn't buy it, not at all. He would always(gently, politely, concernedly, fondly, timidly) ask "Kaachan" why he didn't try in school anymore. And Katsuki would always reply with some nonsense like "I DON'T NEED TO KNOW NUMEBRS TO BLOW STUFF UP!"

For real, he was having way too much fun being five again.

"But Kaachan," Deku wrung his tiny hands. "To be heroes, you need to go to school. They won't let you stay in school if you do bad!"

Katsuki grabbed his little friend's hands, making the preschooler stop abusing them. He looked down at the tiny, frail joints and unmarked skin, and remembered the hard, scarred hands of the Deku he lost. He squeezed Little Deku's hands. "Don't worry," Katsuki smiled at him. "I won't let you go to High School without me. I gotta be there to make sure no one beats you up, cos only I'm allowed to beat you up."

Deku tore his hands away and stomped his foot. It pleased Katsuki, because Deku was already showing more spirit than he did at this point of time in the original timeline. "You're _not_ allowed to beat me up!" he protested, shrilly.

"Oh,yeah?" Katsuki grinned. He ran, slowly, after a fleeing Deku, eventually letting himself catch up and pin him to the ground, mercilessly poking the smaller boy in random places, making him cry and laugh and cry some more. "Cry baby, Deku!" Katsuki teased him.

"You're a bully!"

"And you're my nerd!"

"What's that mean?!"

"It's my job to be your bully, nerd!" Deku was about to argue, Katsuki could tell, but then he stopped, closing his mouth with a considering look. "And as your bully its only my job to beat you up, and I gotta beat up anyone else who tries!"

"I thought we were friends." Deku said, his voice a bit quieter.

"Don't be stupid." Deku's face fell. "I'm your bully. Bully's don't have friends! And when I grow up, Im'a be a _Villain_ , and you'll be my Hero, so I'll _still_ always beat you up!"

Slowly, Deku started to smile. Then horror over took his face. "YOU CANT BE A VILLAIN!"

Katsuki cackled in what he thought was a suitably impressive manic laugh for a five-year-old voice box. "ILL RULE THE WORLD!"

" _Kaachan!"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the interest in my story. I'd love it if you'd drop a review.**

 **~James**

ღ‿ღ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ღ‿ღ

It was inevitable.

It was bound to happen eventually.

In this timeline, Izuku had already been informed by the doctors that he would never have a quirk of his own. The old Katsuki had bullied him relentlessly for it, taking joy in crushing the smaller boy's spirit.

Being five, even an astoundingly intelligent five-year-old, Izuku did not question Katsuki's sudden transformation from bully to best friend. After all, he'd already borne witness to Katsuki's sudden shift from best friend to bully. Izuku's mother, however, was a bit more skeptical of the change, and for a good several weeks after Katsuki found himself in his preschooler body she made sure to keep the doors open, to keep a close eye on their play.

However, Inko was a kind woman, who shared the same breed of heart with her son. She was quick to forgive Katsuki – who, in her eyes, was just a child who was going through phases – and to welcome the boy back into her good graces. Katsuki's own mother didn't notice any change, which Katsuki found both amusing and…a bit sad, actually.

His father might have noticed, but it wasn't in his nature to say anything.

Anyway, the quirkless Izuku soon found that it wasn't just Katsuki who would tease him for his quirklessness, and many not-Kacchan bully's tended to be more vicious than Katsuki had ever been. And, considering that in their past life Katsuki had _literally_ told Izuku to kill himself, that was saying a lot. Young children, cruel in the way only ignorant children can be, would use their budding quirks with intent to _hurt_ , to do _damage_. Mostly because they didn't have the life experience or mental capacity to comprehend what it was, exactly, that they had the power to do. However, that didn't change the fact that Izuku was starting to gain bruises, and they weren't coming from Katsuki.

Inko, at first, had been afraid that Katsuki had reverted back to his old ways. However, that fear was soon put to rest when Katsuki blew up at the realization "Deku" was hiding injuries from him.

Because the other children didn't torment Izuku when Katsuki was anywhere nearby. They weren't _that_ stupid, apparently. They would wait until they were separated, until Izuku was playing by himself, and then attack all at once.

In the past life, Katsuki guessed that it must have been himself who kept all these other fucking losers at bay. No one wanted to get between an angry Katsuki and his favorite prey. Now, though, Izuku was just one of his many friends.

(And Katsuki did have many friends….somehow, he'd ended up sort of being the class clown….?)

Nevermind that Izuku was Katsuki's nerd. His Deku.

His _Best Friend_.

"IMA FUCKING KILL EM"

"Ka-ka-Kaacha _aan_ " Izuku grabbed one of his arms with both of his tiny hands. "They're just playing! I-I don't think th-they knew exactly how much it h-hurt…" Katsuki pulled Deku into an aggressive hug, squeezing as tightly as he could. " _Kaachaan~~"_ Deku wheezed.

"Youre _my_ nerd," Katsuki said quietly. Behind them, Inko – who was only a few feet away, making dinner - snorted, but covered it up with a dainty cough and sniffle. Both little boys ignored her. "Only _I_ get to beat you up, because only _I_ know how to do it right!" Katsuki was getting angrier, his hold on Deku getting tighter.

" _Kah-Kaachaaan~"_

"*snort*"

"IMA BLOW UP THEIR NOSES AND STUFF THE HOLES WITH BROCCOLI!"

" _Kachaan~ Nooo~"_

Katsuki released Deku, who stumbled back and started gasping for air. Katsuki but his hands on his hips, taking a stance he remembered his mother adopting at many, many points during his life. "And why not?"

"B-b-because you'll get in trouble," there were tears in his eyes.

"Stop being a cry baby," Katsuki told him automatically. Inko reprimanded Katsuki half-heartedly. Then the firecracker of a child took on a very considering look, and both Midoriya's looked at one another in apprehension. "You're right." Katsuki said calmly. "Because you don't have a quirk, assholes who think that makes you a loser will always try to beat you up."

Izuku started crying in earnest. "Katsuki!" Inko said, "That was mean!"

"What was?" Katsuki looked at her in bafflement.

"I-I'm sorry, Kacchan!" Izuku wailed. "I wish I were strong like you!"

"Shut up, Deku," Katsuki told him, helping him to his feet. "You're plenty smart, and that's more important than strong. Anyone can be strong if they exercise. But only smart people can be smart. Stupid people just memorize stuff and that's not the same."

Izuku blinked watery eyes up at him. "You really think so?"  
Katsuki grinned, wide and confident. "YUP! That's why I don't bother with school. School is for stupid people."

Izuku's tears came back. "B-b-but you need to do good in school so you can be a hero!" Izuku suddenly grew quiet, and looked down at his feet. "And I need to have a quirk so I can be a hero. But I can't, because I'm a stupid deku."

Katsuki huffed impatiently. "Noooo," he said. "You're Deku because I'm Kacchan. You're quirkless because you're Izuku."

Both Izuku and Inko looked like they weren't sure what to make of that statement, whether it was a compliment, an insult, or just a fact of how Katsuki's mind worked. "Besides," Katsuki continued in that same thoughtful tone. "You're right."

"I am?" Izuku looked hopeful.

"Yup." Katsuki nodded, decidedly. "I can't blow their faces off, because that's what _you_ gotta do."

" _WHaaat!"_

"Don't worry," Katsuki said in what he thought was a reassuring tone. "I'll stay right by you until you're strong enough. You're smart enough, but now you gotta learn to be strong like me."

"What do you mean?" Izuku looked interested. Inko looked concerned.

"Follow me," Katsuki told him, imperiously.

Inko watched the two little boys march out of her kitchen (well, Katsuki marched out with a grip on Izuku's wrist as her little boy was more or less _dragged_ out after him). She wasn't sure whether or not she should intervene. After dinner was set to cook, she peeked her head out the window towards where the two of them were playing. She muffled a snort as she watched the two of them run in circles, then stop to punch at the air, do a few jumping jacks, try to do push ups and sit-ups, then keep running.

She also had a hard time not giggling when Katsuki informed her of the changed that needed to be made to Izuku's diet, with her sun listening carefully, promising to do as "Kacchan" said. Well, all the changes Katsuki was asking for were pretty healthy, so Inko didn't see any harm in playing a long.

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Aizawa hated his life.

He hated getting up at four in the afternoon so that he could _adult_ for a few hours before going off on patrol until eight in the morning just to repeat it all again.

He hated his stupid best friend with his stupid loud quirk and his stupid extroverted personality.

He hated hanging out with said best friend and his other equally stupid friends.

He hated his stupid dry eyes that made it so much harder to just _life_ in general.

He hated that stupid rat who kept trying to rope him into teaching worthless wannabe hero brats.

He hated those two little kids who would wander around the city by themselves at three in the morning, because damn it the city isn't safe for naïve little brats like them.

He watched, almost numb with how _exhausted_ he was as the two kids walked hand in hand talking quietly. Like every night for the past two months, they walked the same route through back alleys to some random empty lot, where they were exercise until they collapsed. The green haired boy would stick with martial arts and regular, physical exercise, but the blonde would practice using his explosion quirk by plunging his little hands into a barrel filled with collected rain water, then blasting these tiny little puffs above his head (though as the nights passed, Aizawa could see a marked improvement in the puffs of smoke becoming crackles of flame). It always made Aizawa irritated (worried) when the two boys would just lay down and close their eyes, tiny chests heaving and hands intertwined, before getting up and racing each other back to their apartment complex, where they would say good night (Aizawa did _not_ coo when the little blonde kissed the greennette on the cheek) and part ways.

He could respect that the little boys, who couldn't have been older than eight or nine, wanted to get themselves into shape, but how naïve could they be? Just relaxing like that in the middle of the open, city night. He chest constricted in an unfamiliar way as he thought about how young and innocent they must be, that the evils present in the world must not even _occur_ to them.

For the most part, he'd just follow from a distance while doing his normal patrol, keeping one eye roaming back to check up on them every now and then. A few times, he'd intercepted unsavory characters before the boys had even noticed, beating the crap out of them for even _thinking_ about harming or abducting those two innocent brats.

They were just little kids who hadn't learned to be afraid yet.

God damn Aizawa's pathetically sappy heart, but he wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Tonight, though, the boys hadn't moved from their sprawled out, starfish positions for a bit longer than usual, and Aizawa was starting to get concerned that the two of them had actually managed to pass out. Aizawa kept his ears focused on the police radio chatter, and one eye on his own private radar hooked up to detect quirks being used around the city. The other eye, remained on the boys.

Usually, they began heading back to their homes around four. Plenty of time, he assumed, to slip back into bed before their parents woke up.

The digits on his screen crept closer and closer to five. Five fifteen. Five twenty.

Aizawa was swinging down, off the roof and towards the kids before it even registered just what it was he was doing. As soon as he got within twenty feet, to his surprise, the boy with the poofy blonde hair snapped upright, looking straight at him. Aizawa slouched casually, hands visibly relaxed, trying to communicate a non-threatening aura.

It didn't seem to matter in the end, because the boy just smiled at him. A wide, friendly smile. Something _squeezed_ in Aizawa's gut because, holy cow, did this tiny human have no idea the kind of bad people that were out there? No sense of self-preservation?

"Hello, mister!"

Apparently not.

The blonde boy's shout woke up his little friend, who mumbled a bit before rolling up into a seated position. His eyes widened as soon as he saw Aizawa. At least this one looked nervous as he inched towards his friend, and grabbed the blonde's arm in a death grip.

"…K-Kacchan…."

"What?" _Kacchan_ asked his friend. The greennnette just shook his head and pulled them both to their feet. He tried to back away, not taking his eyes off of Aizawa, but his friend was apparently much stronger than him, because _Kacchan_ didn't budge, just looked at his friend with the most innocently confused look Aizawa had ever seen.

Jesus, how sheltered is this child?

"You boys are out pretty early," Aizawa drawled, stepping closer, keeping his stance open and relaxed.

"We're training to be heroes!" said the blonde boy, still smiling that bright, happy smile. Aizawa was about to respond, but his mind was forced to come to a complete stop when he heard when Kacchan said next.

"Like you!"

Both the green kid and Aizawa looked at Kacchan, the former in bewilderment the latter in confusion.

"H-how?" Aizawa didn't know what to say. He was relatively new on the scene, only having gotten his pro hero license a few years ago. Besides from that, he was an _underground_ hero. His whole career depended on no one knowing much about him.

Well, that explained why "Kacchan" wasn't afraid of him. "You know who I am?"

The green haired boy shook his head, dumbly. The blonde just shrugged. "I couldn't find your name when I looked for it, but I saw you save a lady once."

"Save a lady once", well that was helpful.

"W-w-w-who _are_ you?" asked the green haired boy. Aizawa looked at the two of them for a second, watched as the smile on the blonde's face slowly began to fade, a look of uncertainty and disappointment taking it's place.

No.

No.

Not the puppy eyes.

Anything but that.

Damn it.

He sighed. "Eraserhead."

"That's a fucking stupid name."

" _KACCHAN!_ "

ღ‿ღ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ღ‿ღ

It had taken years to find his sensei.

But Katsuki was nothing if not determined. For the past several years, he and Izuku had managed to build up their bodies as much as they could without damaging themselves. They ran and swam and practiced martial arts they learned from YouTube videos. Katsuki could say with no small amount of pride that he and Izuku were _ripped_ for little kids.

Of course, he was very, very careful of Izuku, careful not to push him past what was healthy, despite his friend trying his best to go above and beyond at every turn.

Now that they were in middle school, everyone noticed their friendship. A lot of people thought it was weird, even. They called Izuku a doormat, Katsuki over protective. They said that they had an unhealthy codependency on each other. They said Katsuki had an unsettling obsession with Izuku.

Yeah, well, try watching your best friend _die_ and see how clingy you are for the next few years, especially when said best friend is the cutest fucking little kid on earth. So what if Katsuki like to squeeze Izuku, or pinch his cheek, or ruffle his hair, or peck little kisses all over his chubby face. Katsuki was like, forty by this point and Deku was a baby. His cute tiny baby Deku and he loved him and he'll fucking kill any shithead who tries to interpret his love for the cute tiny baby Deku as something gross and sexual.

Besides, they're physically _eight_. What did they _think_ they were getting up to behind closed doors? Fucking filthy minded perverts.

And Deku himself had no problem with it. Izuku always reached for Katsuki's hand as they walked side by side. Izuku _loved_ cuddle time. And even though Izuku blushed and mumbled at Katsuki's quick pecks, he always leaned into them, sometimes returning them in an adorably awkward and clumsy way.

The moment Izuku grew too old, started pulling away or protesting, Katsuki would stop. But, until then, he would enjoy this tiny, squishable version of Deku.

"WHAT YOU LOOKIN AT YOU FUCKING ASS NUGETS?" Katsuki howled at two of their classmates who were laughing at Deku holding on to his arm.

"It's okay, Kacchan," sweet tiny chubby baby Deku assured him. "They don't bother me when you're here."

"Shut up Deku," Katsuki said automatically, bumping his forehead against Deku's. "I'm never gonna be not here."

He watched, pleased, as Deku's round little cheeks turned pink and he hid his face in Katsuki's shoulder. " _Kacchaaaan"_

"What, nerd?"

"Love you, too"

"FUCKING SHUT UP YOU STUPID FUCKING DEKU"

Anyway, it was only a matter of time before Katsuki found Aizawa-sensei. He'd taken to wandering around the city in the early, early hours of the morning, looking for any sign of his old teacher. He figured that if he ended up getting attacked, it might even lure Aizawa-sensei straight for him.

He didn't end up needing to resort to that, however, because one night, he stumbled across a woman about to be raped in an alley. He clenched his fists, and was getting ready to intervene, when a blur of movement tackled the guy. He watched, his heart twisting with affection and nostalgia as his teacher quickly worked to secure the rapist and get the woman back to her feet, before calling the police and an ambulance.

See, Katsuki had this idea. He had no idea how Deku convinced All Might to give him his powers, _so_ in the small chance that Katsuki somehow fucked things up, he needed a back up plan that could get Izuku into UA anyway. Aizawa was a teacher, he could refer people. Not only that, but he could teach Izuku to fight in a way that Katsuki couldn't. With Aizawa's quirk being what it was, he was the ideal person to see the potential in someone like Izuku.

Except, he wasn't quite sure how to get Aizawa's attention. So, he took to patrolling the same area he suspected Aizawa did. At least, he tried to. That very next night, as he was creeping up the front door of his apartment, he walked right into Izuku, who had been standing there waiting for him.

"Deku?" Katsuki asked, bewildered. "What are you doing up?"

"What are _YOU_ doing up?" Izuku demanded. His eyes were wet, and his cheeks were spotchy. Instinctively, Katsuki reached out to give Izuku a hug. His hands were slapped away. Stung, emotionally and physically, Katsuki stepped away from Izuku in surprise.

Izuku's bottom lip trembled but he stayed standing there, firm. "You can't go wandering by yourself, Kacchan!" He cried, though he kept his voice low. "You'll get hurt! Or-or kidnapped! What are you even doing? Where are you going?"

"I'm training…." Katsuki said. "In an old empty place. No one goes there."

"Why? We train every day?"

" _My quirk_ , Deku," Katsuki lowered his voice, slowly reaching out for Izuku's hands, relaxing a little when Deku let him. "I'm practicing my quirk, out where I won't get in trouble. I need it to get stronger, so I can be a hero. Right now…right now it just isn't strong enough…And you _know_ the fucking school or the old hag would let me practice if they knew."

Izuku was quiet, then he said "Take me with you, Kacchan. If there's trouble, two are better than one." Katsuki bit down the scathing words that jumped to his tongue, and nodded, leaning forward and gently kissing the tip of Deku's nose.

"You won't tell?"

"…." Deku squeezed Katsuki's hands. "I won't tell."

ღ‿ღ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ღ‿ღ

Izuku had a best friend.

He had the _best_ best friend. His Kacchan.

His Kacchan was strong, strong enough to carry him even though they were the same age. Strong enough speak up when he thought someone else was wrong or he was right. Strong enough to stand up to bullies. Strong enough to fight the bullies who picked on Izuku or other kids. Strong enough _to win_.

Strong enough to teach Izuku to be strong, too.

But _boy_ was he stupid.

It confused Izuku, because he was _sure_ that if Kacchan only tried he could do well in school, but he didn't. It _seemed_ like he listened at least sometimes in class, but whenever testing came around he either failed outright, getting _everything_ horribly wrong, or only just barely passed. It worried Izuku, every time testing came around. He worried that Kacchan would end up getting held back a year and they'd be separated. He tried offering to help Kacchan, but Kacchan would just laugh it off, like it was silly Izuku would be able to help him.

Even still, every year, Kacchan managed to _just barely_ get by.

Aside from school, Kacchan didn't seem to _get_ some things.

Mom told Izuku that Kacchan might be somewhere on the autism scale, more towards high functioning, but still there. Kacchan's mother got angry when his mom suggested he get tested though, which made Izuku angry. Angrier than he'd ever been in his life. Kacchan needed _help_. He needed to be diagnosed so that people would _understand_ he wasn't a bad guy. He just _didn't understand_.

He _couldn't_ understand.

Izuku's heart always hurt when he saw that one, specific look in his Kacchan's eyes. That _Am I doing something wrong? Was that bad? I'm confused. Is this right?_ Look that he got when people pointed out that something he was doing was weird, or disrespectful. Like when he referred to people by a physical trait rather than their name, and someone got mad. Or when he punched someone in the nose for making fun of Izuku's hair, and Kacchan got in trouble. Or when he and Izuku saw a villain fighting a hero and Kacchan just casually began to walk towards them.

Some things, Kacchan just didn't understand, and it was always really obvious things.

In his private research, Izuku found that autistic people tended to act younger than they were, but the specific behaviors depended on the person. Izuku could easily see how that had to do with Kacchan. He threw temper tantrums over silly things, he got irritated easily.

He was very, very cuddly.

It never really bothered Izuku before, except recently he started to feel a bit _weird_ about it. But, he was always patient because it was _his Kacchan_. His strong, silly Kacchan who _needed_ him. No one else saw Kacchan the way he did. The teachers just saw a stupid kid with a temper and weird habits. No one else saw the shy smiles when he did something kind, or his fierce defense of his own moral code of honor.

Yeah, it was a little… _different_ when Kacchan would kiss his cheeks or cuddle up next to him, or pull his hair or squeeze him so tightly Izuku couldn't breathe. But it wasn't _bad_. And it wasn't done with a bad spirit either. The look in Kacchan's eyes was always so…pure? Innocently happy? All Izuku knew, is that Kacchan had been behaving exactly how he behaves since they were babies. That clear, bright look in Kacchan's eye was a life-long constant.

His Kacchan _needed_ him. So Izuku cuddled him back, kissed him back, loved him back and made sure that he _never_ **ever** felt like he was wrong or different or bad. Because there was nothing wrong with Kacchan. He was just special.

He was _Izuku's_ special, bestest friend.

Which is why Izuku thought his heart would climb out of his throat when he saw Kacchan wander off in the middle of the night. He hurried to climb out of bed, where he'd been watching from his window, and rush outside. But by then Kacchan was gone from sight. Izuku had cried and waited by his window until he saw Kacchan return the next morning, looking no worse for wear.

The next day, it was like nothing had happened. Except Izuku stayed a little closer to his Kacchan, hung on a little tighter.

The next night, Izuku was ready. He managed to catch Kacchan before he got too far.

What Kacchan said broke Izuku's heart.

Kacchan wanted to be a hero. Izuku had always known this, despite Kacchan joking all the time about becoming a villain (just another thing that Kacchan didn't _get –_ it was _bad_ to joke about that, because villains actually killed people.) But knowing that Kacchan, sweet Kacchan, was out training to be the best he could be worried Izuku.

Izuku _had_ to get stronger. _Had_ to become a hero, because there was no way he'd ever make Kacchan be on his own, among people who didn't understand him.

"Take me with you, Kacchan"

Take me with you.

His whole life, summed up in five words.

Take me with you, Kacchan.

So that they could be together.

So that he could protect Kacchan.

So that Kacchan never felt unloved.

So that neither of them were ever alone.

He remembered something Kacchan had said a long time ago.

"You're Deku because I'm Kacchan."

Take me with you, Kacchan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey yall, sorry it's been so long since I've updated. To be perfectly honest, I'm kinda sorta not really on ffn as much anymore. I just find archive of our own a lot more user friendly? If you guys want more of this story, my user name is Wawa_Boonliang there. I'm up to chapter 31 on this story...yeah... I really am sorry...**

Aizawa had a weak spot.

No one knew about this weakness of his, except that rat at UA and Hizashi, and Aizawa intended to keep it that way. It's probably the whole reason that rat thinks he'd be such a great candidate for a hero-teacher.

Aizawa can't stand kids with potential. They're worse than those idiots who have no idea what they're getting into. Worse than the kids who think it's a game. Worse than the wannabe's who don't stand a chance. There's nothing worse than kids with genuine potential for greatness.

Because he literally can't stop himself from bending over backwards for them. It's like he looks at them and sees a stray cat. He knows he should walk away. He knows that he can't personally take care of every single one, and why bother with this one in particular. And yet he always ends up doing the same thing, be it stray cat or cute little kid with astonishing determination and way too much naivety.

Kacchan McSplodey is the human embodiment of a stray cat.

Aizawa tried hard to think of all the women he'd saved recently, which one Kacchan might have seen him save that would inspire so much trust, hero worship, in this adorably violent tiny human. There had been so many, not to toot his own horn, but young woman and old women were some of the prime targets for scum looking for trouble.

In the end, though, he knew it didn't matter. The damage had been done, and he'd managed to secure the Number One hero spot in the heart of this spikey-haired middle schooler.

He wasn't at all pleased.

His fate had been sealed, however, when he stupidly stupidly decided to walk up to them and introduce himself. Kacchan had the balls to not only curse but curse while insulting his hero name. And do it with that look of obvious respect in his little face, that pleased smile.

Aizawa couldn't stand kids like that.

"What kind of martial arts do you know?" Kacchan had asked him, all but skipping as Aizawa led them back towards their homes. "Where did you learn? You went to UA, right? I wanna go there when I'm older! School is stupid right now, but I'll bet it'll be fun there! I'm gonna be the number one hero! Just watch me! I'll even beat All Might and Deku!"

Deku. Useless. It's what he called his little green friend, who hadn't really said much of anything. He was, understandably, wary of Aizawa and protective of Kacchan. He was so unphased by the insult his supposed friend kept using so casually, Aizawa couldn't help but wonder if it was actually his name. Kacchan didn't seem to be using it maliciously, either.

"All of them. Lots of places. Yes, and good luck. I'm sure you'll do great.," Aizawa snorted in response to Kacchan. The little explosion looked up at him with surprise and shock. Then, a tiny little smile, that seemed a bit sadder than his other grins, quirked onto his face. Then it was gone and replaced with that blindly bright grin, and a dozen other questions.

Normally, Aizawa didn't like being grilled like this. Normally, he'd send the kids on their way with a grunt and a reprimand to be more careful. But something about Kacchan made him answer back, be a bit more considering with his actions. Something about this child seemed…horrifically delicate, and it irritated (worried) Aizawa that he couldn't pin just what it was.

Not soon enough (too soon), they reached the boy's apartment complex. Kacchan stopped, midsentence, and looked up at Aizawa with his shocking red eyes. "You gonna fucking avoid us now?" the boy asked. His stomach turned cold. Deku was looking at his feet.

This damn kid. "Why would I?" Aizawa asked carefully, his voice gone flat and softer than it usually was, and he wasn't a loud person to begin with. The little boy only shrugged, looking away with a stiff bottom lip. Aizawa slowly kneeled, hand on his knees, and the boy's face whipped back to stare at him. They were level, eye to eye, Aizawa saw the naked hope in his face.

He was done for.

This damn kid. "I'll be in the park at five, tomorrow," Aizawa said, barely managing to swallow the sigh. "I might be in the mood to show you two how to properly throw a punch. Right now, you're more likely to break your thumbs than someone's nose."

Kacchan reared back and scowled ferociously. "I FUCKING KNOW HOW TO PUNCH! I BREAK BITCHES NOSES FOR FUN!" Then he whirled around on his heels and ran to his apartment door, before he stopped and looked back over his scrawny little shoulders at Aizawa. For a moment, it looked like he was confused why Aizawa was still there (that didn't break his heart, it didn't), then he slowly looked ashamed. Then confused again. It was such an honest look, such a pure, innocent look. Aizawa hated that look.

Kacchan slowly walked back to where Aizawa was still kneeling. There was a fragile wetness to his eyes. "…'kay" and Kacchan laid his forehead on Aizawa's shoulder. Aizawa froze. The next moment, the boy had dashed back to his home and closed the door behind him.

What?

"Thank you, Mr. Eraserhead."

Aizawa looked at the green boy, who had stayed, as he rose to his feet. "For what?"

Deku shuffled his feet. "Most grown ups don't like Kacchan." What? "They always just say he'll probably grow up to be a villain."

Anger.

He kept his voice level, though. Uninterested. "Even though he says he wants to be a hero?"

Deku just did that helpless foot shuffle, again. "He does things that people don't like," the boy met his gaze, and there was a fierceness in him that took Aizawa by surprise. "But it's not his fault. Kacchan doesn't understand things. A lot of things. He acts angry when he isn't angry, because he doesn't know what else to do! And he gets frustrated easy, so he isn't a good student but he really is smart, Mr. Eraserhead!"

"What doesn't he understand?" Eraserhead asked, leaning against the wall. The sun was starting to come up.

"People," Deku said quietly. "Mom says he's probably autistic, but don't tell him I told you. I don't want him to think he's broken. Kacchan likes being the best." Deku met his gaze again. Determination. "Kacchan is the best."

"What are your names?" Aizawa asked.

Deku looked thrown, then suspicious. "Why?"

Aizawa weighed his options. He may as well go with honesty. "I plan on doing a background check on the both of you, then I will approach your mothers. I'm a hero. I'm not going to be caught stealing children on a regular basis just because some snot-nosed brat wants to be a hero."

Deku's eyes brightened. "Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya! Y-you're gonna train us?"

Aizawa didn't answer, he just started to walk away. "Get inside, kid. Your mom's going to worry."

ღ‿ღ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ღ‿ღ

There was no hope of getting any sleep, never mind that he was so exhausted he was practically staggering in zigzags by the time he reached his home. So, Aizawa looked up the two little imbecilic tots.

Midoriya had impressive grades, was consistently at the top of his class and a perfect record to boot.

Kacchan—Katsuki (no damn it Bakugo) had absolutely terrible grades, was either dead last or near to it in every subject, was labeled as a problem child with violent tendencies and had been in detention more in the past year than Aizawa had his entire life.

There was nothing about him being tested for autism, or even a learning disability. Usually, a kid this troubled would have had a lazy ADD or ADHD label tacked on him. But, there was nothing. No trips to councilors, no history of therapy sessions. Nothing. No extra curricular activities, no history of nannies or babysitters despite both of his parents working full time.

Aizawa was pissed.

He knew Kacchan—Kats—no Bakugo for all of an hour, but he could already tell that this kid was bright. His questions hadn't been the questions of an unobservant kid, they had been questions of someone who had spent a lot of time taking in information, processing it until they had a good understanding, then trying to fill in the gaps of that understanding.

Not to mention the training regiment he'd seen the boy employing. That had obviously been carefully thought out. No way this kid was too lazy or stupid for school, there had to be something else.

Which left teacher bias and parental neglect.

Grown ups don't like Kacchan.

Aizawa wanted to personally beat the crap out of any teacher who had looked down at little Kacchan—Bakugo for being different. It was their job to help kids like him, not push him to the back of the pack. That kid who wanted to get into UA, who was working so hard to be good enough for UA, but with those grades, it just wasn't possible. Not unless someone from the inside vouched for him.

Fuck.

Actual Fuck.

Aizawa hates kids like Kacchan.

ღ‿ღ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ღ‿ღ

Inko Midoriya worked from home, she had since her husband had left her and her child alone. Her work could all be done from her computer, taking care of taxes and finances for people who were either too lazy to do it on their own, or who simply didn't know how to. It wasn't the most exciting work, but it put food on her table and kept her available for Izuku and Katsuki.

She loved Mitsuki, she was one of her closest friends, but somehow she had this image of Katsuki in her head that left her feeling like the little boy was fine being on his own, all the time. She saw Katsuki as a capable, strong young man and he was…but…he was also a very fragile, precious little boy. A little boy who was always looking up at her with that question in his eyes Was that good? Are you proud of me?

Mitsuki's husband was so used to just letting her do her own thing, too, that he mostly left little Katsuki to his own devices. After all, she'd heard him say once, he's basically his mother in a cuter package.

But Katsuki needed adults to take an interest in him. He craved it. There were times when Katsuki would just quietly sit next to her, and they'd talk. Those talks never failed to surprise her. They'd talk about current events, or why things are the way things are. Katsuki has such a mature understanding of everything. Inko agrees with her son, Katsuki should be doing better in school.

But then little Katsuki would be a little too violent, not realizing how powerful his quirk is, or how strong his own body is, or he'd yell too loudly, or he'd say something a little worrying, and people just assume he's a bad egg. They don't see him quietly keen to himself when he thinks no one is looking, like he's in pain. They don't seem him hug himself and squeeze his little eyes shut. They don't see him rub his eyes and bang on his chest. They don't see his tantrums or bad grades as a cry for help.

The just see a future villain. Inko wants to smack them all. All they're doing is creating a future villain.

People have never spared a thought, that Katsuki Bakugo might have more potential than they think. Which is why she was so shocked when a strange young man with lank, long black hair and tired red eyes asked if he could help babysit her son and Katsuki.

"B-babysit?" she asked, surprised. The young man had knocked on her door, and asked to speak with her about 'something of some importance, but if you're busy right now~" and she'd ushered him in, sat him down and made him tea.

"Yes," said the young man. "I've been—I've seen them wandering around. They're such good kids. I know they want to be heroes, and while I don't have experience teaching…I do have experience in being a hero." With that, he takes out his wallet and slides out a card, which he hands her.

It's a professional hero license.

"Eraserhead?" she reads, under her breath. "You want to train my son?"

"And Kacchan," the young man Eraserhead says. Inko can't help it. She giggles. The young man makes a disgusted, shocked face, then hurries to correct himself "BAKUGO!"

When she calms herself, she regretfully informs him "Eraserhead…I'm not his mother."

"To be perfectly honest," the man says. "I don't think his mother would care either way" Inko is first offended on behalf of her friend, but then forced to agree. "Which is why I'm asking you, Mrs. Midoriya."

"Please, call me Inko."

"…call me Shouta."

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Katsuki couldn't fucking wait for school to be over.

The teacher was droning on and one about fractions and decimals and reciprocals and while Deku was dedicatedly scribbling down notes, Katsuki was trying to figure out if he could untie the teacher's shoes with his mind.

It wasn't working just yet, but he'd get it one of these days.

"Mr. Bakugo," the teacher snapped. "Is there something interesting on my feet? Or is there some other reason why you refuse to look up here with the rest of the class."

Katsuki lazily looked up at him. "You've got crap fashion sense, you know that?" He watched in bland interest as the teacher's face started to turn puce. He couldn't help but compare this guy to Aizawa-sensei. He always compared his teachers to Aizawa-sensei. None of them ever came close to being the kind of teacher and just all around great guy his sensei was.

Is.

His sensei. Katsuki couldn't help but smile. Sensei would meet them after school.

A hand slammed down on his desk. "You will pay attention, or you will visit the principal's office. Do you hear me!" The teacher's face was so close to his, he could smell his rank breath.

"Yeah, I hear ya," Katsuki leaned back. The teacher sneered at him one more time, before returning his attention to the lesson. The class was told to copy down the problem on the board, work it out, then show a partner. Katsuki copied down the numbers, then just wrote a big number five for the answer. Sure, he was supposed to write down 17/48, but he had an image to maintain.

He looked at the girl to his left, and decided to make her his partner. He vaguely recalled her transferring to the class recently, couldn't recall if she'd made any friends. He glanced at her paper. She had written down 16/48 simplified to 1/3. He whapped her desk with his notebook to get her attention, trying for a friendly smile when she flinched and looked up at him through her thick bangs. "Your fucking answer is wrong, dipshit," he said helpfully. The girl loudly burst into tears.

The actual fuck? He looked over at Deku somewhat helplessly, and Deku—the cry baby—just wobbled his lip at him, green eyes filling with tears. Damn it all.

"Bakugo!" The teacher barked. "Principal's office, now!"

ღ‿ღ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ღ‿ღ

Aizawa made it to the park fifteen minutes early, and was pleased to see the familiar green hair of "Deku" Midoriya. The greenette was standing alone, watching smaller children play in the grass and on the play equipment. Aizawa frowned, looking around around.

"Where's K—Bakugo," Aizawa asked the boy.

Midoriya looked up at him, a pout on his freckled face. "He's in detention." Aizawa's brows furrowed. "It's not even his fault though!" Midoriya looked either close to tears, or like he'd just finished crying. "I swear! Kacchan didn't mean to be bad! He was trying to help her!"

Aizawa blew out a heavy breath as he firmly, but not unkindly, took Midoriya by the arm. "What happened?" Aizawa asked him, as he led the boy to a bench. They both sat to wait for Kacchan.

"In math class, we were supposed to all partner up and compare our answers for a problem," Midoriya sniffled. "And Kacchan tried to help one of our classmates. She doesn't have any friends because she's so shy and doesn't talk to people. He told her that her answer was wrong, and he might have said it badly, but she started crying and now he's got detention but I looked at what Ichika wrote and it really was wrong!" Midoriya had started to babble, so Aizawa hushed him with a raised hand.

"Don't worry about it," Aizawa told him. "I'm already planning on discussing things with your school. Your mother and I discussed it this afternoon. We think it might be best to transfer you and Kacchan to a new school."

Midoriya looked up at Aizawa with an odd look on his face. "Kacchan?" Aizawa ignored him.

"She'll talk to Mrs. and Mr. Bakugo tonight. Failing that, there's always private tutors, but I think we should try to let him be around other children as much as possible."

There was more Aizawa could have said, but he was cut off by the pounding of little feet. He stood, turning, just in time for a small projectile to attach itself to his legs. "Hi sensei!" crimson eyes looked up at him. Fang-like teeth gleamed at him in a manic grin. "I'm late!" There was no apology. Just pure, childish joy.

Aizawa really fucking hates kids like Kacchan.

ღ‿ღ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ღ‿ღ

Meeting up with Aizawa-sensei was like a dream come true for Katsuki. It was weird, seeing him so young. He looked so much younger, acted so much younger. It was hard to understand how this Aizawa was only seven years younger than he had been when Katsuki met him the first time. The only big difference between now and then, as far as Katsuki knew, was that he wasn't a teacher, yet.

That day at the park ushered in a new chapter of Katsuki's new life. Aizawa was surprisingly gentle and patient as he taught him and Deku. Over the course of the first few weeks, he got a good idea of where the two of them were physically. His eyebrows had risen way up when he realized that Deku wanted to be a hero, too, despite being quirkless. But, in the end, he didn't say anything. He only brought up different non-lethal weapons and marital arts to start learning to use.

They met up every day after school, either at the park, in a private gym Aizawa had access to, the lot where they first met, a warehouse Aizawa showed them, or the Midoriya's home. Aizawa taught them how to turn their own bodies into weapons, taught them discipline, taught them laws and regulations, taught them strategy—which Izuku excelled at.

At first, Katsuki was determined to play the dumb kid he was pretending to be, like he did in school. But it was hard. So hard. Not the pretending part, no. He had that down pat.

It was the knowledge that he was wasting his sensei's time.

He couldn't. Not after everything Aizawa had done for him.

Katsuki worked his ass off.

Izuku seemed shocked at how fervent and focused and determined Katsuki was in training. But Inko seemed to just accept the change and Aizawa….Aizawa expected it.

Plus, there was this proud grin Aizawa would throw his way whenever Katsuki did something amazing. It made him want to try even harder. To give 110%.

His quirk was already as powerful as it had been the beginning of his second year of UA, and he was only fourteen.

The final year of middle school.

Aizawa had become a firm fixture in his life. Katsuki didn't know what he would do if Aizawa suddenly decided to bail on him. Probably hunt the bastard down and drag him back. He spent a lot of time with sensei, even when they weren't training. Particularly after one night when he was eleven.

Katsuki had pushed himself a little too hard, worked a little too long. By the end of his work out at the gym, his palms were aching and his lungs were heaving. He was trying to get a certain aerial maneuver down. He knew how to do it. He'd done it plenty of times in his old life, but for some reason his body didn't want to cooperate, and it left him crashing full speed into the ground.

Blood was caked on his face, and he must have hit his eyes 'cause those were fucking leaking, too.

Aizawa sensei had been in another room, teaching Deku gymnastics.

Sensei had walked in, Deku behind him, and seen Katsuki sitting on the floor wiping away blood and tears and snot. He'd flat out run to him.

The hero slid on his knees, bending low and scooping Katsuki up by his forearms. "Kacchan," Aizawa sensei had taken to calling him that stupid nickname from Deku. "Look at me." A gentle, cool hand cupped his chin and tilted his mangled face up. "Jesus, kiddo. What were you doing?"

"I can't," Katsuki clenched his fists, and clenched his eyes, and clenched the muscles in his fucking back, and his stupid arms that couldn't control his damn quirk and he tried to not cry but his lungs just keep heaving. "I can't."

"Shhhhh" That's something else new, unique to this timeline. Aizawa sensei treated Deku more or less like he'd always had. But he was always a bit more tender with Katsuki. Katsuki wasn't stupid, he'd noticed it. He'd just never quite figured out why. He can't say he minded too much, though. Maybe he was just playing that I'm a dumb kid card a little too often. A little too well. He probably looked like a dumb stupid useless child just then, bloodied up because he couldn't fucking control his own crappy quirk.

Aizawa had pulled him against his chest, using his ever-present scarf to wipe his face and fuck if that didn't make him feel guilty. His sensei was warm and firm. "You've got time, Kacchan. You don't need to have it learned today." Katsuki tried to argue, but all that came out was a gasping wheezing cough. Aizawa rocked with him and patted his back. It made Katsuki a little angry. He wasn't a fucking child, except…he was. They all thought he was. He forced the anger down as much as he could, but his whole fucking traitorous body still tensed up even further.

"Midoriya," Aizawa looked up at Deku, who was kneeling by them, letting their sensei take care of his best friend. "Go home. Tell your mother I've got him."

"O-okay, sensei."

After Deku left, Katsuki had managed to calm himself down, to just exhale the rage into his sensei's uniform. As much as he hated being treated like a fucking baby, that's basically what he was. He knew it. He looked at Deku and saw a tiny, helpless infant. He's physically the same age, so it would make sense that that's what people see when they look at him.

Even if it was fucking annoying that his sensei obviously thought he was a puny little kid.

"Can you stand?" Sensei's voice was soft. It was never this soft before. It was familiar and strange and Katsuki fucking hated how much he didn't hate it. He isn't a little kid, but his brain hasn't gotten the fucking memo.

"Asshole, of course I can fucking stand. I'm not a damn invalid."

Sensei ran a hand through his hair with a soft laugh. "Whenever you're ready."

Katsuki pushed away from Aizawa with a pout. He refused to meet Aizawa's gaze. "I'm fine." Aizawa smiled at him, and it was such a fucking patronizing smile that Katsuki had a hard time not exploding it off of his face. Except this was sensei. His sensei got a free pass.

"Come on," Aizawa-sensei told him, heading towards the doors of the gym, scooping up Katsuki's things as he went. A warm arm slung itself around Katsuki's shoulders, and he let it be. They walked down streets that Katsuki couldn't immediately place. They weren't going in the direction of his apartment. He didn't say anything, though. He trusted his sensei.

They left the main city, made it to a suburban area. The houses were all small and quaint and kept, the kind of homes with spotless fences and flowerboxes. A cat sat vigilantly on a wooden post in front of a nondescript home. When she saw Aizawa, she merped once before leaping down and disappearing.

Aizawa undid the latch of the gate near where the cat had been sitting, and gently pushed Katsuki through. He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, clanging them as he flicked through them in his palm, then inserted one into the keyhole. Kastuki looked up at his sensei.

"Inside, brat," Aizawa nudged him, again, then stepped past and dropped Kastuki's things in a pile by the door, near where slippers and shoes were haphazardly stacked.

Katsuki just stood, sort of confused, in the doorway. Thinking back, it seems silly, but he always sort of assumed Aizawa sensei just lived at UA. He had that sleeping back, so Katsuki had thought he just sort of hoboed it up in the teacher lounge, mooching off of the coffee there. Then he realized that Aizawa didn't work there yet.

Soft, damp cloth gently dabbed and wiped his face. Aizawa had reappeared with a washrag. There was no smugness, no demeaning patronizing smirk. Only sensei with a rag and his flat not-smile. Katsuki let him wipe away the blood. "You look like you were mugged."

"If anyone asks it was thirty ninjas and I murdered them all."

Aizawa sensei sighed and flicked his nose. "Don't joke about murder, Kacchan."

"Why?" Katsuki didn't wait for an answer, so he didn't see the conflicted look that crossed his teacher's face. He just slipped off his shoes and traipsed into the living room, blatantly taking in every detail. "I didn't know you lived in a house." Katsuki said in wonderment, again missing the pained expression that Aizawa was quick to suppress. "Why am I here?"

"Are you hungry?" Aizawa asked in lieu of answering. Katsuki looked at him, wary.

"Why? What do you want?"

This time, Katsuki did see a strange expression on his teacher's face, but it was gone before he could decipher it. He guessed Aizawa was just really awkward and didn't know how else to comfort Katsuki besides offering food. "I want fish bread."

"After dinner," Aizawa quickly stepped around the boy and headed into the kitchen. They had dinner, watched crap television, and Katsuki ended up passing out on Aizawa's couch beneath his cat and about ten blankets. The evening was filled with cursing (from Katsuki) awkward silence (from Aizawa) and many stiff head pats and shoulder squeezes (also Aizawa).

But it became something of a tradition. Soon after, when Katsuki started the next year of school, Aizawa took up a teaching position at UA. Training time with him was pushed later in the day, and Katsuki and Deku ended up doing most of their usual routine on their own. Katsuki guesses that Aizawa felt guilty about it, because almost every day after training, he'd go home with Aizawa. Sometimes Deku would tag along. Aizawa would leave for patrol after Katsuki passed out (or, at least, pretended to). Katsuki wasn't a total ingrate, though. He made sure to go home to his parents at least once a week.

They never asked him where he spent his evenings though.

A few times, he'd randomly mentioned to his mom and dad about things he and Deku had been up to, or things he'd learned in training. His dad had smiled and hummed and his mom muttered something about him finally doing something fucking constructive.

He preferred going home with sensei, though. Now, he's fourteen, and ever since he first started going home with Aizawa, the man had taken to sitting him down and walking him through his homework.

It was nice.

Because now he didn't have to fucking pretend to be a moron, of course. That's all.

Aizawa patiently explained math concepts that Katsuki already knew, and always quirked a grin at him when he did them perfectly. Aizawa walked him through the history facts Katsuki had learned by heart years ago, and gave him treats or stupid head pats when he parroted them back.

Now that Katsuki was fourteen, though, he realized he was going to have to change his behavior. He thought back to how he had been in his first life, and realized that that just wasn't going to fly. He didn't know if he'd be able to bully Deku like that, in the first place. And, besides, sensei would tan his hide if he tried. So, instead, he thought back to how Deku used to act.

Quiet and kinda mousey? Smart, but jittery? Katsuki didn't know if he'd be able to pull it off, but damn it all if he wasn't going to try his hardest. So, he avoided eye contact. He spoke only when absofuckinglutely necessary. He tried to remember to add a random stutter every now and then. He fidgeted with his palms and bounced on his toes. He wasn't a moron, though. None of the changes happened over night. He was careful to spread out the shifts over the course of two months.

It must have worked, because none of his teachers ever batted an eye. Neither did his parents. Deku and Aizawa are fucking smart, though. That's the only reason, Katsuki told himself, that they were able to tell. He wasn't even mad. He was somewhat proud that sensei and Deku knew him well enough to think it was weird when he changed like that. Except, it made him feel just the tiniest, most smallest bit guilty when they asked him what was wrong, and he'd only shrug or act confused.

Aizawa hugged him a bit more, now. Deku clung to him like the fucking leech he was. Katsuki thought he understood, though. He liked hugging Deku, and he remembers that the first time around Deku's friends were always hugging him.

"Let me see your report, Kacchan," Aizawa sensei ordered him, setting down a mug of coco for him. "The one for your literature class."

"I didn't fucking read the book," Katsuki muttered. He tried to think of a suitable excuse. "I lost it." Aizawa's lip thinned out into a white line, and Katsuki fiddled with his pencil, not looking at him. He fucking hated disappointing his teacher.

Aizawa sighed deeply, and rubbed Katsuki on the head like he was the stupid cat. "I have a copy, somewhere. Hold on." Katsuki watched him walk away, in the direction of his bedroom. He sat quietly, waiting for him to return. He thought about what he would do when UA started, maybe he'd just disappear for a little while, camp out in the library. He could use the time to try and get his memory in order, come up with a solid game plan for the next few years now that he had a good idea of what changes had come about with him mucking around in the past.

Hopefully All Might would make an appearance soon.

Aizawa trudged back, and Katsuki held out his hands for the book. Aizawa didn't hand it to him. He just sat beside Katsuki and wrapped his arms around the boy. They were both very stiff, rigid. Not used to hugging despite Aizawa attempting to at least once a day. He knew from listening to Mrs. Midoriya and Deku that sensei apparently thought he was "love-starved", which was stupid, but he wasn't sure how to go about arguing his case.

"Sensei?"

Aizawa patted his back, self-consciously. Thunk. Thunk.

"You know I'll always listen to you, right Kacchan?"

Katsuki nodded, not sure what the heck was going through his teacher's head.

"You know I'd fight for you?" Katsuki smiled and gripped the fabric of his teacher's shirt.

"'course."

Aizawa was quiet, then he pulled back. Gave him a lopsided, forced smile that somehow still seemed genuine, then cracked open the book, cleared his throat, and started to read.


End file.
